Ground & Pound (9 page)

Emmy

Running a towel through my hair, I hear Kane’s phone ring. I can’t really hear too much of what he is saying, but his tone is full of aggravation. Turning toward him, I see him shaking his head. “What’s wrong?”

Not answering, he walks around one of the rows of lockers, the look on his face completely opposite of a minute ago in the shower. Moving toward him, I ask again. “What’s wrong? Why are you upset?”

“I’ve gotta leave for New York tonight. They need me there in the morning for an interview with one of the big talk shows and a photo shoot.” Disappointment fills me as he tells me he’s leaving. His hands grip my waist when I finally make it to him. “Come with me.”

I shake my head, wanting to say yes but knowing it’s not possible. “I can’t leave right now. Trey has to go back for a follow-up tomorrow, and I want to be there to talk to the doctor. I also have work. If I don’t show up, I don’t get paid.”

“I want you there. I want everyone to see my woman.” His fingers dig into my waist as his dazzling blue eyes beg me to say yes.

Leaning up on my tiptoes, I place a kiss on his lips, hoping he’ll quit asking me to go. If he doesn’t, I might forget that I have responsibilities and say yes. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you get back. If you’re lucky.”

I love messing with him, love making him smile. We have this crazy chemistry that’s electric and intoxicating, and it only gets better when we’re both laughing. Then, the chemistry turns into something else, something foreign to me. Something that may just mean I feel more than what I’m willing to admit. 

He pushes forward, causing me to move backward. When my back is pressed against the lockers, he lowers his lips to mine. “If I’m lucky, huh?”

“Yep, so you better play your cards right,” I tease, focusing on his lips. 

His hands grip my ass, lifting me up. “I think I’ve been playing you just right.”

I shake my head, laughing at his words. “When do you have to leave?”

His head dips so his forehead is resting against mine. “My agent said they were able to get me on a last-minute flight. I need to be at the airport in a couple hours, but I have to stop by the house to get my stuff first.”

“So, basically, we need to go now,” I say, not wanting to let him go.

“Yeah, babe. We need to hit the road.” His hands lower me until my feet touch the ground. 

Grabbing my hand, he leads me out of the locker room. All of the boys are gathered in a circle, talking, but go completely quiet when we emerge. A heated blush touches my cheeks, realizing this is the biggest walk of shame I have ever taken.

“Well, you two sure look refreshed,” Ozzy says, a huge smirk plastered across his face. “You better hope Coach doesn’t catch you. You know his rules.”

The thought of being cut off from Kane has my stomach clenching. “Will he make you stay away from me?”

Kane leans down, kissing me deeply. “That isn’t gonna happen.” 

“Seriously, Em, you’re doing that shit in here and in the locker room? I’ve gotta shower in there,” Trey whines, as if we’ve contaminated the place.

“Both of you shut the hell up,” Kane orders before looking at Trey. “Go hit the weight room.”

Trey goes immediately, not having to be told twice. Ozzy, on the other hand, smiles and keeps on. “We need to do some soundproofing if you plan to do that too often. Listening to your girl moan has us all walking around hard as nails.”

Kane ignores him, going on as if his brother hadn’t just embarrassed me. “I have to go to New York tonight.”

“What the hell?” Ozzy asks, looking from me to Kane. “Why tonight?”

Kane lets out a long breath, looking down at me. “I didn’t tell you everything.”

“What?” I mumble, starting to worry that I’m not gonna like what he has to say. 

“Tracy Martin tested positive for steroids, so they had to cancel her title fight with Mallory Stone.” He trains his eyes on Ozzy. “Since Nico and I are the next title fight scheduled, we are replacing them as the main event at the next pay-per-view.”

“No damn way. That’s less than a month from now. You can’t go into a title match with only two months to train. Not only that, you just fought,” Ozzy replies, his voice filled with anger. “They’re setting you up to lose.”

My heart skips a beat, not quite understanding why the timing is so important. “How long do you usually train before a fight?”

He squeezes my hand, comforting me. “I train every day, but step it up when I’m getting ready for a bout. With a regular fight, I go hard for three months. For Nico, I planned to spend at least five months getting ready. We were supposed to start extensive training in two weeks.”

“And, now, you only have three weeks? What are you going to do?” I ask, fear filling my voice. 

“Do what I always do. Win,” Kane answers, leaning down to kiss the top of my head. “Don’t worry, baby.”

“You didn’t take any damage at your last fight, and you’ve only had two weeks to fill yourself full of junk food. You should be okay,” Ozzy adds, looking at me instead of Kane. 

I can tell he’s trying to make me feel better, and that’s just pissing me off. “Don’t lie to me. I can tell you’re worried.”

Kane pulls me into his arms, looking into my eyes. “He’s not lying. I came out of my last fight with a bruise under my eye, nothing more. For the last two weeks, I’ve been in here training every day. I’m in the best shape of my life.”

“The only thing you’ve gotta worry about is Jake’s rules. Not sure how you’re gonna handle three weeks without Emmy,” Ozzy says with a laugh. 

Jake is Kane’s trainer. He has been working with him ever since he realized he might have to fight Nico. Kane respects the man, and I really do like him, but still, he isn’t gonna keep me from seeing my man. “That’s not gonna happen.”

“Hell no, it’s not,” Kane agrees, looking back to Ozzy. “I’ll be back in three days.
You’ll be in charge until I get back.”

“I’ve got it covered.” Ozzy nods before walking back toward the office.

“Come on, Emmy,” Kane says, leading me out of the gym.

We walk out to the truck, neither of us really saying anything. The fact that he is leaving tonight is really getting to me. Since our first real date, we haven’t spent a night apart. I either crash at his place, or he’s at mine. Usually, I find myself in his bed at the end of the day. He says it’s because my apartment is smaller. I think it’s simply that he wants me at his place. 

His house is amazing, though. It’s a two-story craftsman, with a large living room and four bedrooms. He has a full basement that’s bigger then my entire apartment. His house has all the bells and whistles, including a game room and a gym. There’s an in-ground pool out back and a hot tub that fits six. 

He shares the home with Ozzy, and their mom lives next door. On my nights off, we all have dinner at his mom’s, even Trey. My little brother loves hanging out at Kane’s. As soon as we get there, he crashes in front of the damn Xbox, or he’s in the gym working out.

I feel him grab my hand, and when I look up, we’re parked in front of my place. That was fast, too fast. “Wow, I didn’t even realize we were here.”

He brushes the hair out of my face, a smile on his lips. “You know if you want to stay at my place, you can.”

I shake my head, not giving in to temptation. “No, I wouldn’t feel right without you there. We will be fine here. We were for years before you showed up.” I reach for the door, trying to tell myself how stupid it is that I’m so upset.

“I like the idea of you and Trey being at my house,” he says, opening his own door. 

I have known this guy for less than a month, and he’s only going to be away for three days. Him leaving shouldn’t upset me this bad. “I need to get some laundry done and go grocery shopping, anyway. I haven’t done anything here for weeks.”

Kane hops out of the truck, running around to meet me, as usual. “I’ll only be gone for three days, and I’ll call you both nights.”

“Don’t worry about me, Kane. I think I’ll survive without you.” I try to insert some of my usual wit, but it’s forced.

He kisses me, devouring my mouth. I lose myself in him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Be safe. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Damn, woman, you make it hard to walk away from you.” His deep voice rumbles in my ear, sending chills through me.

“You too.” I take a step back, forcing myself to let him go. “Text me and let me know when you land?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles before giving me one last kiss.

“Now, get out of here, before I change my mind and force you to stay.” Not letting him reply, I turn and run up the stairs to my apartment.

Peeking around the corner, I watch him climb in the truck and drive away. A pain hits my heart. Ignoring it, I walk into my apartment and settle on the couch.  

Grabbing the remote, I spend the rest of the next hour watching TV and pretending I’m not completely in love with Kane Travis.
 

Kane

Stepping into the shower, my mind fills with the day’s events. It started at four-thirty this morning, even though my plane didn’t land until after midnight. First up was an interview for a national talk show, where I was grilled about the upcoming title bout. Of course, I didn’t give them any real answers. You just have to blow enough smoke up their asses to shut them the hell up.

Then, I had a photo shoot in Times Square that included the bystanders as they walked by. Hundreds of people ended up in shots. One guy even came up and did the fist-to-fist shot with me. As much as I usually hate photo shoots, it ended up being fun as hell. I like interacting with fans a hell of a lot more than the media. I wish Emmy could have been there to see it.

Finally, I had dinner at Bobby Flay’s
Gato
with a company interested in being my new sponsor. At least, the company was interested in being my new sponsor, until their representative tried to talk me into pretending to be with the desperate wannabe he brought along. She was all over me, damn near going down on me in the restaurant. The fact that he just assumed I would be okay with being his puppet let me know immediately there was no way this would work.

She’s supposedly some actress wannabe, and he thought the publicity of us together would be good for both of our careers. He kept telling me how any publicity was good publicity, and being seen with a hot chick on my arm would be wonderful for me and for his company. I let both of them know real quick that wasn’t happening. 

I played that game when I was single. My name has been linked to more women than I can count, most of whom were set up by my agent or sponsor. Half of them, I can’t remember their names. Hell, it’s doubtful I ever even asked most of them for it. That life is over, though. Emmy won’t be seeing pictures of me with other women every time she opens a magazine. I won’t disrespect her, and I sure as hell won’t risk losing her over some slut I couldn’t care less about.

Letting him know I wasn’t single anymore didn’t seem to change his mind. He kept pushing and pushing for a photo of me with her. Finally, I just stood up and left the two of them behind. I wasn’t going to play their game. He wants to work together, that’s one thing, but I am over people using me and riding my back to get themselves ahead. My manager called, angry as hell, but he got over it when I explained. Hopefully, he can fix this. If not, I’ll find another sponsor. I have a good reputation, and anyone working with me knows I won’t cause them problems, so there’s a line of companies waiting to take me on.

As I step out of the shower, there is only one thing on my mind: talking to my girl. Drying off, I run the soft towel over my cock, and a smile spreads across my face. As I walk into the bedroom, I toss my towel on the floor and grab my phone. Emmy may not be here, but I know the next best thing. 

Lying in the bed, I push the call sign next to Emmy’s name and place the phone to my ear. As soon as her sweet voice answers, my dick twitches. “Hey, baby.”

“What are you wearing?” I ask, not even bothering to say hello. 

“Well, hello to you, too,” she replies, not answering my question. “How was your day?”

I smile at her attitude and ask again. “What are you wearing, Emmy?”

“Well, I just stepped out the shower, so I’m wearing a towel and not much else,” she purrs, only adding to her sex-kitten persona. I picture her in my mind, and get pissed I can’t be there with her.

“I don’t even have the towel on, so you’re overdressed,” I tell her, fisting my cock. “Why don’t you lose yours and climb into bed.”

She’s quiet for a second before finally responding. “I have to be at work in forty minutes. You’ll have to be fast.”

Hearing her talk about her job has my blood boiling. I can’t wait ‘til I can talk her ass into quitting. Right now, she’d throw a damn fit if I even brought it up. Still, she’s gotta find something else to do. If not, I’m gonna end up killing one of the guys ogling her tits. As soon as I get home, I’m gonna put a stop to it. She can come work for me, or I’ll pay her fucking bills. Either way, she won’t be stripping any longer. 

“I’ll be fast. Just grab your toy,” I order, not wanting to think of her stripping anymore.

Again, she goes quiet, then whispers, “How the hell did you know about my toy? Did you look through my dresser?”

I laugh and tell her the truth. “Babe, I spotted it the first time you opened your panty drawer. It’s hard to miss a purple vibrator, even if it’s hidden under all your G-strings.” I’ve thought about grabbing it a few times while we’re playing, but usually, I’m just too focused on getting my hands on her.

She lets out a frustrated grunt, but I can hear her pulling open her drawer. “Fine, I’ve got my toy. What do you want me to do with it?”

“Are you in the bed yet?” I ask, trying to imagine her body spread out for me.

She’s quiet for a second. “I am now.”

Now, the vision is complete. My sweet girl is spread out across her bed, holding a vibrator in her hand. Just the thought has me about ready to burst. “Only my dick gets in there.”

Hitting the speaker, I lay the phone right beside my head and cup my balls. Stroking my cock up and down, I listen to the buzz that tells me she’s doing as I say. “Touch yourself with it.”

Waiting until she moans, I ask, “How’s it feel?”

Her voice is husky as she answers me. “It feels good, but not as good as you.”

“Good answer,” I reply, realizing just how perfect she is. “I want you playing with your nipples. Pinch them hard, just like I do.”

She lets out a long moan, whimpering with pleasure. “Damn, I can feel it in my pussy.”

I know she does. Every time I touch her nipples, her pussy gushes all over my dick. “Use your toy on your nipples and move your hand down to play with your clit.” I close my eyes, letting the visual of her touching herself play in my mind.

“Okay,” she mumbles, her breaths coming in fast pants.

Imagining the way she looks playing with her own body, I start to stroke faster. The sounds she’s making, her whimpers and low moans, are bringing me close to the edge. “Are you playing with your clit, baby? Are you going to make yourself come?”

“Yes, but I want you to come with me,” she says through a moan. “Are you stroking your cock? Are you pretending your hand is mine?”

“No, baby. It’s your sweet mouth,” I answer, imagining her swallowing me down. “You’re taking it deep down your throat.”

She lets out a sigh before taking a deep breath. “I need my fingers inside, Kane. Please, let me put them in.”

“No,” I order, stroking faster. “Nothing gets in that pussy but me. It’s mine. I own it.”

“Please, baby. I need to come,” she begs, panting with each word.

My hand moves up and down on my cock, giving it a little squeeze each time I reach the tip. “You can come without it. Just think of me, Emmy. Think of my cock sliding inside you.”

She whines, and I can imagine her bottom lip sticking out. Still, she doesn’t complain. Her breath becomes labored, just as mine picks up. Even through the phone, I swear I can hear her sliding her fingers through her wet folds. “Are you close, Emmy?”

“Yes,” she breaths out, nearly on the edge. 

“Pinch your clit, baby. Pinch it really hard.” I stroke fast as I issue my order. A second later, she’s screaming out in pleasure. I follow closely behind her. 

We both stay quiet as we attempt to catch our breath. Finally, she breaks the silence. “I’m ready for you to come home.”

Grabbing my discarded shirt from the floor, I run it over my stomach. “Two days, and I’ll be by your side again.”

“I can’t wait,” she says, letting out a long sigh. “I want you back in my bed.”